He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

by William Butler Yeats

I am learning so much. And I can share what I learn with such a great person. I feel like "great" is a term I use when I just have no better adjective to use, or creative explanation. He left for a summer job this morning and the next time we see each other will be in August. He is not hours upon hours away but he is in the woods for several weeks at a time. So I am to carry on with my summer and all its adventures, anxiously awaiting Fall but not to miss out on all the wonders of each day.

Bah. Here is another poem:

As stars begin to reflect in your eyes

Like they would if in a placid pond sheltered by alpine forest,

But we are only in a park underneath an efflorescing birch.

And as the sun slumbers beneath mountain silhouettes

My hear pushes on into the dusk, seeking for exploration.

It beats heavily with questions.

Tonight moonbeams rest in your hair.

I blanket you with my body, and

Notice how your eyes acutely connect with mine

As if they depended on them for breath, for life.

I feel as though we have intertwined and have become interconnected.

We are an intricate ecosystem,

Relying on one force and energy to provide for the other.

A query approaches which my hearts finds new

Its explorations have not taken it here

Since the world was much simpler with adolescence.

When it seemed one-dimensional

As if I could draw the pieces of my life on a sheet of paper.

My heart became saturated with questions on love.

Does it come together from pieces placed over time?

Or is it a single entity; always there and only trying to break through the surface

As a new shoot once it is strong enough to directly connect with the sun’s rays

Is love like a mellow breeze sweeping through blossoming magnolias

While the sun’s kiss on my neck lures my soul

Into a tranquil elation for the majesty of the earth.

Is being enamored like the incessant conversations of a brook,

Always bubbling whispers and new stories each day.

Can I hear love the way I do a songbird’s voice in early morning?

Is it as tangible as petals on my skin,

Or raindrops permeating my hair?

Or is love set apart from the rest of its kind?

An owl and be termed an owl but no two are the same

There is only one kind of love shared between two.

And if love is whatever we can shape it to be,

Then I want ours to instill doubt in others regarding their love,

That it is not as tuned and equally shared as ours.

Does love form as rocks do?

The eldest sages of the earth,

Perfect and molded by weathering.

They have stood against pressures of change and time.

When is the right moment to tell someone you love him.

To say I am unsure about many things

But this is the one question I can answer:

That I need you, I desire you, and when I look into your eyes

I don’t only see reflections of stars

But a future that lasts as long as you will keep me.